


Chamomile Flowers

by shieldings



Series: The Secrets of Markov Castle [1]
Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Herbalist Raven, Kory's not A Friend yet so she's a little grumpy, Pre-Femslash, Princess Tara, moody teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldings/pseuds/shieldings
Summary: If Raven's minding her own business, and Tara's minding her own business, why do they keep running into each other?
Relationships: Raven/Tara Markov
Series: The Secrets of Markov Castle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599502
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Chamomile Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tophzula5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tophzula5/gifts).



It starts with her staring suspiciously at Raven through the fence. Raven ignores her and continues picking the white flowers that grow around its base. The girl with the tangled yellow hair shoots her a dirty look. Raven glances up at her, hiding that she’s nervous, and tucks another flower into her basket.

“What are you doing here?” the girl asks, crossing her arms over her lacy, dirt-stained white blouse.

“Gathering chamomile,” Raven says, looking stalwartly at the ground.

“Why?”

“Medicinal.”

“This is my fence, you can’t touch it.”

“I’m not touching your fence,” Raven says. She pulls her next flower a little harder. “I’m minding my own business.”

“No, you’re minding my business,” the stranger says. “You can’t hang out here. This is my castle. Only important people are allowed here.”

“This is the castle?” Raven looks up and over the girl’s shoulder. Sure enough, there are distinctive towers peeking out from behind the green, overlapping hills and the lush trees.

“You must be new around here. Take a good look, ‘cause that’s the last time you’ll be seeing it. Get moving!” the girl says, emphasizing her words with a dramatic (and rude) gesture.

“Wait, if this is the castle, and it’s your castle, that makes you…”

“I’m the damn princess! And I’m ordering you, as the princess, to get off my property!”

“But I’m not on your property…” Raven is fairly certain she’s not technically on the castle’s grounds.

“Get out of my sight, then!” the girl exclaims, brandishing her fists.

Raven assess the elements to her situation. The stranger, angry and prepared for a fight. Herself, completely unprepared. Her knowledge of herbal medicine, which could be useful if she were to be beaten up mercilessly and left to die.

  
The fence, separating them as it would separate a smart sheep and a fancy-looking wolf.

“You can’t actually do anything to me,” Raven says, not bothering to hide the hint of smugness in her voice.

“I can… I can call the guards on you!”

  
“What can they do? I’m not on your property and I’m not bothering you.”

“You’re bothering me plenty!”

“Mm-hmm.” Raven kneels and begins gathering flowers again. The stranger groans in frustration and stomps off.

\--

“Do you need a towel?” Arella asks as Raven comes in through the kitchen. A fleeting summer rain has moved in, soaking the flowers and leaves Raven has gathered up. Her mother’s already grabbed a towel from the cupboard by the refrigerator, so obviously she’s anticipating an answer.

“Yes, please,” Raven says, gratefully accepting it. “I got a lot.” She holds up the basket.

“Perfect. I’ll find a jar in a few minutes, okay?” Arella takes a few steps (their house really isn’t very big; maybe it’s a little cramped) and collapses on the couch. “I’ve been in the garden all afternoon. How did picking go for you?”

“Oh, nothing in particular happened,” Raven says, smiling.

\--

“Oh god, not you again,” the princess says. She’s sitting in the dirt like a kid, with her fluffy petticoat ballooning her skirt around her.

“I was just walking. I didn’t know the grounds went out this far,” Raven says. She’s telling the truth. She doesn’t know these woods. She hadn’t expected to find that same wrought-iron fence blocking off the winding path she’d been walking for the past hour.

“You’re trespassing again,” the girl says. Whiny.

“I’m still outside,” Raven says. “What are you even doing?”  
  


The girl mumbles.

“Come again?”

“Dggfrwrms.”

“I’m sorry,” Raven says.

“Digging for worms, asshole! For fishing! I use local worms! Is there a problem with that!?” the girl says, flinging her arms into the air. A couple of worms fly up with them.

Raven takes a step back.

“I fish! Do you think I can’t fish because I’m fancy? Huh?” She pats the front of her skirt. It bounces.

“I don’t think you can’t fish because you’re fancy,” Raven says.

“I do it because my BROTHER TAUGHT ME,” she says with more scorn than Raven had previously thought could be fit into a sentence like that. 

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Why do you care?” the girl asks. “Anyway, you should know. We’re on the news.”

“I don’t have a TV,” Raven says.

“And that makes you better than me!?”

“What’s your name?”

“What-- what's my name? Who do you think you are?”

“What’s your name?”

“Tara,” the girl says, more quietly. She raises her voice again. “And I’m a princess! Princess! So you don’t get to talk to me like that!”

Raven nods, even though she’s feeling strangely triumphant. “What’s your brother’s name?”

“I have two of them. Gregor and Brion. Brion’s the one who plays with me. Gregor’s the Crown Prince, so you should have heard of him!”

“I don’t have a TV.”

  
“Do you read the newspaper?”

“No.”

“Do you listen to the radio?”

“No.”

“Do you… do you listen to people talking in the street?”

“I don’t do any of those things,” Raven says, shaking her head.

“What _do_ you do?”

“I read,” Raven says, a bit offended. Of course, she can’t really keep that many books in her tiny house, but she’s still amassed a collection of well-loved ones. “And I go outside, to do things. I don’t _play._ ”

“Boring.”

“I’m not putting up with this,” Raven says, and turns around to leave.

\--

“I know a horrible girl,” Raven tells her mother.

“Oh?”

“She’s loud and spoiled and she thinks she’s better than me.”

“I’m happy you’re making friends.”

\--

“So how old are you?” Raven asks. They’re at the same stretch of fence they first met at. Raven doesn’t have a basket this time; in fact, she didn’t bring anything to do.

“You never ask a lady how old she is,” Tara responds. “Don’t be a bitch.”

“I’m fifteen.”

“…I’m fifteen.”

“You’re not just imitating me, right?” Raven asks.

“Why would I want to imitate someone like you?”

“Do you go to school around here?” Raven asks. She’s only come this summer, so she hasn’t been to the village school. She’s not sure if it’s better or worse than the schools back where she’s from, so she might as well get some information.

“I don’t go the school. I have a tutor. He’s better than any of your teachers.”

“How do you make new friends?”

Tara splutters. “I’m a princess! Princesses don’t need to make friends with-- dumb nerds. Commoners!”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

This time Tara’s the one to run off, her skirt flouncing dramatically.

\--

Raven finds the fence _again_ when she’s trying to find her way to the grocery store that’s supposed to be a little bit out of town. Somehow, she’s disappointed that Tara isn’t waiting for her there with something rude to say.

\--

“What are you reading?” Tara asks. She leans forward and puts her hands on the bars of the fence as though she’s a prisoner in a jail cell.

“Bestiary,” Raven says, not looking up. “It’s an old one, too.”

“Anything cool?”

“Sailors land on whales, and build fires on their backs to cook with. When the whales feel the heat, they dive underwater and drown them.”

“That sounds fake.”

“It is. But there’s almost always a string of truth in these things,” Raven says. “Even if you can’t trust them for facts, the stories always have morals. ‘Don’t let yourself be tricked by appearances.’”

“Mmmh, still sounds like bull.”

“You know,” Raven says. “On the outside, you’re very cute.”

“I’ll punch you.”

“This page says to hit parrots with iron bars if they don’t cooperate.”

They sit there with no points of discussion for a while, but neither of them storms off.

\--

“Wanna come in?” Tara asks unexpectedly one afternoon.

Raven is thrown off by this. “The fence is blocking me,” she says.

“There’s a gate, dumbass,” Tara says, rolling her eyes. “Follow me.”

They walk a while along the fence. Raven has to step over a fallen log, several boulders (mostly bare, some mossy), and wade through tall grass on her side, while Tara’s journey seems pretty smooth.

“We have a groundskeeper,” she explains. “His name’s Edgar and he’s only got half a nose.”

“What happened to it?” Raven asks.

“I think it was either a badger or an accident with the mower,” Tara says. “There! See, I told you there was a gate!”

The road is a few yards away, gloriously paved and not full of mud and burrs. The gate is shut, and nobody seems to be watching it. Raven wonders if that’s a security risk.

“Just a second, I need to figure out how to get the latch on this thing,” Tara says. She fumbles with the lock at the center of the gate for a moment, then jumps to the side as it swings open, nearly hitting her. “Tada! Welcome to Markov Castle!”

“It’s a very nice gate,” Raven says, stepping in. 

Tara bounces on the heels of her scuffed white shoes. “Okay, I’ve gotta show you the bug now, come on!”

“You’re… really excited,” Raven says. “What bug?”

“There’s this diplomat, and his daughter brought a really big bug,” Tara says. She grabs Raven’s hand, startling her. “It’ll be great. Let’s go!”

“This is distressing,” Raven says, but she still follows her.

It’s a bit of a walk to the castle itself, but it goes through some nice lines of trees and over a wide moat (infested with invading geese).

“I’m back,” Tara yells as they walk through the impressive engraved doors. Nobody answers. “I do it for ceremony,” she says, winking. Somehow, it makes Raven a little sad.

The entrance hall is grand and massive. The ceilings are high and vaulted, and painted in intricate gold-and-green patterns. Looking up at it makes her dizzy. Tara still hasn’t let go of her hand, and tugs expectantly when she pauses to gaze up.

“Come on! The bug, the bug!”

Raven follows her through winding and criss-crossing hallways, lined with precious art and lined with luxurious carpets. Certain areas are blocked off by velvet ropes. When Raven asks why, Tara shrugs.

“Those are for when they bring tours in. Nobody ever comes, though. I go behind them all the time. I touch everything.” They take a sharp turn.

“Does anyone see you do it?” Raven asks.

“Nope, never. Except Brion. He said he’d tell if I did it again, but I did it again anyway.”

“This place is huge,” Raven says as they turn into yet another room. The walls are hung with various antique instruments. “How do you know where you’re going?”

“I’m taking shortcuts,” Tara says. “Look, there’s their guest apartment!” They turn into another hall, uncarpeted and shiny, and Tara points with her free hand to a heavy wooden door. “They shouldn’t be in right now.” She lets go of Raven’s hand and touches the doorknob. “Crap, it’s locked.”

“I guess we should go,” Raven says. She doesn’t mind. She wants to go through again, more slowly, to get a good look at everything.

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Tara says, pulling a clip out of her hair (it falls in her eyes, but in a pretty sort of way). She kneels by the door and begins picking the lock.

“I’m really fine, we can go,” Raven says. The idea of a big bug was never particularly appealing to her in the first place, and now she’s getting implicated in a crime.

“Got it!” The lock clicks and Tara opens the door. She grabs Raven’s hand again when she hesitates. “Hurry up, they might come back.”

She pulls her into the room. It’s decorated tastefully, and is more modern than Raven would have expected considering the rest of the castle. Something horrifying is sleeping on the couch. It’s the size of a cat, fat and pink. Its many short legs are sprawled luxuriously, and it’s snoring in an almost cartoonish way.

“Told you it would be great,” Tara whispers, nudging Raven.

“What do we do now?” Raven asks, hoping the answer isn’t “touch it.”

“Watch until we hear footsteps,” Tara says. “Then we run.”

Raven patiently stands with Tara for several minutes. Finally, she speaks up. “What am I supposed to be looking for?” she asks.

“Just appreciate it,” Tara says. “How often do you get to see this kind of thing?”

“I don’t even like digging up grubs in my garden,” Raven says. “This isn’t a pleasant experience for me.”

“Wimp,” Tara says.

Just then, the sound of someone walking echoes down the hall and into the open door of the room. Tara bristles like a cat.

“Someone’s coming!” she says. She runs to the door and peeks out. “What do we do?”

“I thought you said we’d run!” Raven says.

“Yeah, but someone’s in the hall! They’ll see us! My dad is gonna be so pissed at me…”

“Behind the couch!” Raven says. They duck out of sight just as someone walks through the open door.

The person who walks in is a tall girl with long, thick red hair. Her skin is a shade of orange-gold that makes Raven suspect that she likes tanning salons a little too much, and her muscular arms are decorated with a variety of bright, mismatched bracelets set both with precious stones and plastic charms. She looks around suspiciously.

“That’s the ambassador’s daughter,” Tara whispers. “She’s a princess.”

“But you’re a princess,” Raven says.

“We can both be princesses, stupid. Now shh!” Tara puts her finger to her lip in an exaggerated gesture. Raven doesn’t mention that she was the first one to speak.

“Hello?” the girl says. “Is someone here?”

Raven and Tara are silent.

“I am proficient in physical combat,” the girl says. “If you come out now, I will be merciful.”

They keep hiding.

“My people are well-versed in the art of war,” the girl says, a little nervously. She picks up a vase from the end table beside her. “I could easily remove your skull from your spine.”

“Maybe we should just come out,” Raven whispers. Tara shoves her lightly, which knocks her against the sculpted corner lamp. The girl notices and rushes over to the couch, brandishing the vase with both hands.

“It’s me!” Tara says, pulling Raven backwards. “I came to see your worm!”

“Why are you hiding behind my couch?” the girl asks, lowering the vase. Looking at her, Raven realizes that the sclerae of her large, round eyes are a bright green, only slightly lighter than the irises. She tries not to stare. After all, she has stranger things going on herself. “And who is that?”

“This is Raven. She’s a burglar,” Tara says. Raven opens her mouth to protest, but Tara beats her to it. “Actually, she’s not, she’s just a hick I found.”

“Hick?”

  
“Bohemian. Swamp-witch. Whatever. Anyway, I found her out by the fence and I decided to bring her inside,” Tara says, shrugging. “I’m pretty sure she’s harmless.”

“You still have not answered my first question,” the girl says.

“We wanted to see your worm,” Tara says.

“Silkie is not a _worm_. And you could have asked.” She scoops the bug off the couch. It yawns, revealing sharp teeth.

“Sorry. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?” Tara smiles, rather charmingly. 

The girl sighs. “Just leave.” Tara nods vigorously and grabs Raven’s hand again, leading her out of the room before she can say another word.

When the door is shut and they’re in the hall, Raven throws her un-held hand in the air. “What was that?” she half-yells.

“Adventure,” Tara says sheepishly.

“She was going to hit us with a vase! She said she’d break our heads off!”

“She’s pretty nice,” Tara says. “Don’t know her that well, but I’ve never seen her hurt anyone.”

“Well, you had your chance to back there!”

“Pff, as if.”

Raven steams quietly, but she’s having a hard time staying mad when her hand is being held. They walk a little slower, so she gets a better look at some of the paintings on the walls. They’re all very formal-looking, with no odd modern art or stylized perspective to be seen.

“It’s like a museum in here,” she says.

“Technically, this part is supposed to be,” Tara says. “Most of the castle is off-limits, but some of the really old rooms with the old furniture and stuff are in the tour. If you want, you can touch the sculptures.”

“No thank you.” Raven shakes her head.

“I’ll touch them first, if that makes you feel better.”

“Still no.”

They turn back into the entrance hall. Raven sees through the tall windows that the sun is nearly setting.

“I should get home,” she says, tugging her hand a little. When Tara notices that their hands are still intertwined, she pulls away dramatically.

“Well, go back to your shack, then,” Tara says.

  
“I don’t live in a shack.”

“Hovel. Will you come back tomorrow?”

  
“Of course.”

\--

“What did you do today?” Arella asks.

“I nearly got beaten senseless by a foreign princess,” Raven says.

“I’m making an active decision to believe you.”

\--

In her small bed, in her small room, surrounded by her books with the moon shining through the window, Raven is quietly excited for the next morning.


End file.
